I’m obsessed with safety. Here is one hilarious example of how bad my obsession is. My thoughts are full of impending disasters and doomed scenarios. A fantasy can easily escalate into a full blown nightmare because I always ask myself what if this and that will happen. Even in my dream I can somehow shift scenes and situations to suit my desire for safety. I’m sure my irrational fears have something to with it. They are the reasons why I installed five points locks on every door and have three sets of gates but still… some days I can’t be in the garden without thinking what if…
At least, since we came home from Menorca, I don’t barricade myself anymore with pillows. The big knife I always sleep with under my pillow is now on the floor next to the bed. I call it an improvement. But I still lock inside doors. Don’t want to leave anything to chances. You never know… It used to be this bad. Especially during winter months when the days are dark cold and dreary. I guess we have to wait till it is that far again to know if I am really progressing.
Don’t judge the book by it’s cover they say. It’s only the packaging not the contents. You cannot judge how deep is the water by looking at the surface alone. Like a pretty face doesn’t always mean good character and pure heart. There is a passage from a poem we had to memorize when I was young. It goes like this: a mere cheap cut glass on top of a ring if wear by anyone with money and prestige people would automatically assume that it is a priceless gem. Same with a poor crazy guy is just crazy. A rich crazy guy is called eccentric. If a rich person eat too much people praise him for having a healthy appetite and the food must be excellent or otherwise he will never bother. If a poor person will do the same, he will be a subject of criticisms. Then he’s a glutton, must be starving, never seen that amount of food in his life, a social pariah, etc. etc.
For all the quotes and reminders around (most of them we know by heart) not to judge anyone by the looks alone, we still do that. How many times I was snubbed by shops clerks and certain people from certain establishments because they thought I can’t afford or have no right to be there. My own daughter told me I don’t look like a mother. I don’t even have a ‘mama’ hair. How’s that? People in my country for the longest time thought I was not married and have no children. When asked, they told me that I didn’t look like a married woman and didn’t act like one. How people know how a married woman or any type of woman should look or act? Strange…
Surface alone will not tell the story. I’ve seen hundreds of houses, renovated a few, and sold a couple. I’m telling you, when it comes to properties, not everything is what it seems applies too. In my experience, the bigger the place the little the kitchen or bathroom, the unpractical the lay out and in most cases, the dirtiest. I encountered situations that straight from nightmares or comedy films. From shining (slippery) floors you can see (and kill) yourself that has nothing to do with the overall design of the house but too expensive to replace and once you begin… you might as well build an entire house yourself to gorgeous period houses which when you opened the door it will give you the feeling of being transported in another place and another era because the owner decided to ripped the heart and soul of the place and replaced them with his ‘acquired taste’ there is nothing left but the shell. I asked myself over and over again: why buy a period property when you want a modern one? Why destroy a piece of history if you can build the futuristic building that you like? I will never understand.
And I don’t even want to go to the topic of love and relationships with their complex dynamic and pitfalls. Nothing in this world is as opaque and as confusing than a relationship. You can stare at the surface as much as you want but nobody can guess what’s really going on beneath. What makes a relationship works or fall apart, there are no written rules that apply to all. You have to break the surface by jumping straight in there, learn to swim if you don’t know how because no one will teach you (the first crucial mistake a partner could make in a relationship is seeing the other as a lifebuoy) try to stay afloat, keep your strength and recognize the signs that tell you it is time to head for the shore if you don’t want to drown.
Those who said they don’t fall for pretty faces are lying. Love is first and foremost visual. If a beautiful woman (or man) passes by and attract your attention, would you say s/he did so because she or he have a good heart and can cook good and will be a wonderful mother/father? I don’t think so. There is no love at first sight. Attraction at first sight, love may or may not come later if both of you feel of hear the click but love because you like the look of the surface, no sir. In my book, not believable.
Someday I will find peace of mind…
I will forget the past, develop amnesia, have Alzheimer…
I will learn to forgive, cheat and deceive (myself)
I will finally have eight hours of sleep
I will stop thinking, worrying, caring…
The pain will go away or I’ll die soon
I’ll find some inspiration, a proof that this life is worth living, worth fighting for…
Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, Jolene.
DiscoverWP -Lyrics from Jolene by Dolly Parton
Lying down in my bed, if I stretch my arm all the way upward I can touch the sloping side of the ceiling. In the beginning I find it strange and claustrophobic. In our country house (which is an Edwardian dwelling) I need a very tall ladder to be able to clean the chandeliers in every room, and even then… Here in our suburban abode (a modern take on a cottage) everything is smaller. Much smaller. (But still a far cry from my humble origin of living in a shack under the bridge) I thought I will never get used to it.
Funny how people get used (quickly and easily) to everything, good or bad. After a time you don’t even think of it anymore. When the novelty wears out, it becomes a permanent fixture of day to day life. You don’t wake up in awe of the situation anymore. You stop admiring the beauty of it. You settled in and accept whatever as part of your existence. Perhaps once in a while (like in our country house sometimes I stand in the hallway admiring the winding staircase and period features and thought: how beautiful the house is. Full of character and amazing little details) you stop in your tracks and realize how wonderful and lucky you are for having this and that, for being there, for being able to enjoy a commanding view from your window, for driving a status car, for living in luxury.
In a bad situation, you start with making excuses (perhaps after you realized that there is nothing you can do to change it) then acceptance and life goes on. I like our little cottage now. Its minimalist interior, the modern design, the coziness of the rooms, the amount of light coming in, the landscape garden and the wide smooth driveway and the comfortable home office. Sure I still miss the walk in shower for two with big rain shower head in the other house but not so much that I think of it everyday. I learned to take a bath and make do with a hand shower dreaming of the day that I can afford to install a proper one in the corner of the garage.
Don’t under estimate the resiliency of humans and their ability to adapt in any situation. We have the power and strength to deal with whatever obstacles life decides to throw on our paths. We are tougher and braver than we think.
I know that luxury is the easiest to get used to and take for granted. A beautiful face becomes just another feature after a time. A loving partner can be dull sometimes and stable relationships can be boring. No wonder people who are in happy marriages ended up being unfaithful for no reason at all other than boredom. No challenge, no stimulation, no new horizons to discover and explore. Everything becomes normal (and old) when the novelty wears out. C’est la vie.
For every each one of us morning feels different. What the heck, you can’t even have the same morning each day. They say that a good start to a day is very important. If you are in a positive frame of mind in the morning than you are very likely to have a productive day. Similarly, if you get upset or are troubled with something in the morning than you are going to have the same negativity throughout the day. Lindsay Lohan once said:
‘Everyone has highs and lows that they have to learn from, but every morning I start off with a good head on my shoulders, saying to myself, ‘It’s going to be a good day!’.
Let’s try and follow her example. Shall we?
I ditched the pills the doctor gave me to have a goodnight sleep. I should have known. Speaking out of experience, they never help. But I was desperate. I thought this time it would be different, that finally I can sleep like normal people do, wake up in the morning feeling refreshed instead of hallucinating, doing things I have no recollection of whatsoever the next day. Good that D. recorded some of my episodes or otherwise I will never believe I was that far gone. I even accused him of eating my couscous not knowing I was the one who ate it.
So here I am lying awake (again) trying to find a place in my memory to visit. Almost any place will do. Better than climbing up the wall. No don’t recommend me herbal teas, massage, sauna, meditation, music or sex. It will not help. I once combined all of those with hiking and swimming. Miserably failed. Funny thing is: I have not the same problem while on holiday somewhere else. Sure I have one or two days that I have stayed up reading a book but it was either by choice or by circumstances, not a desperate attempt to evoke sleep.
What others do when they cannot sleep… My ex mother-in-law said to me (a couple of weeks ago) that she sits in the garden, in the dark waiting for the feeling to come. I know a woman (a crew in the resort I frequently visit) who sings (her heart out) karaoke at two in the morning (to the horror and displeasure of other guests) because she thinks her husband is unfaithful and she finds solace in blurting out her suspicions and hurt through meaningful songs. Some (especially at this time and age) will fiddle with their tablets or smart phones. Others will smoke or drink alcohol. Both are bad habits to cultivate. But then again, so is relying on sleeping pills.
The truth is: I can’t remember anymore why I started writing this. I had a clear vision of where I wanted to go but it’s gone now. It is usually the case with my thoughts lately. I have to pen them down right away or they will vanish in a second. They are fleetingly elusive. Hard to catch and isolate. Like sleep…
I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have perilled life and reputation and reason. It has been in the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories — memories of wrong and injustice and imputed dishonor — from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom…
I was called gorgeous once
And sexy in jest
I get lovely sometimes
But few of the rest.
I’ve never been beautiful
Never been hot
I didn’t mind it so much
It’s just something I’m not.
Most of the time
I just look okay,
Not bad, not good
In the middle I stay.
It was fine what I have
There are other things worse,
Little did I realize
An okay is a curse.
But the real truth
I’ve noticed quickly
That, every single time,
Someone’s better than me.
Looks are superficial
Because they don’t last,
But they do come in handy
I’ve learned in the past.
I’ve often been liked
For who I am inside,
But it always stops there,
I never get the full ride.
Between myself and another
They will never pick me,
Because the other girl
Is a little more pretty.
A little bit taller
A little more cute,
A lot less round
Has an athletic look.
I may be funny
I may have a nice smile,
But when it comes to body
I’m a little more vile
No matter how nice I am
I never could hide
From the cold and hard truth
That I’m ugly outside…
I have carefully created an empty life, devoid of deep connections. I float from one hedonistic experience to the next, drugged and sexed to general contentment, but when the sharp pain of loneliness strikes spontaneously like some terrible toothache, I realize there is no one for me to turn to, that I am alone and miserable…